Recently I received an email from wordpress; it detailed the performance from The Border Collie Inquisitor for 2014. The results were gratifying. This would be the motivator I’d need to start writing again. I’ve deeply missed the connection with the readership.

Allow me to briefly explain my absence.

My family and I recently suffered nearly insurmountable losses. Losing (4) of our beloved dogs last year took its toll.

No sooner had we started to get ourselves settled into the new pack order my side kick Deja Blue aka Boo was diagnosed with liver cancer. Her diagnosis hit me like a violent tornado as it made its first initial powerful punch. We sat in the eye of the storm, treasuring every moment we had left until August when the eye wall unmercifully hit with vehement intensity and we lost of Boo. I’ve not yet found the courage to tell her story. Even now I pause to sob.

Time is powerful, it moves along with no regard or limits, so we’ll take all of the time that we need. Grief is a process; it goes its own way, and in its own time. It’s the little things, the day to day interactions when we mostly feel their loss.

The Quakers have a saying, “if you love, you will suffer, and it is worth it.”

A friend recently thanked my husband for helping to house a dog at his shelter for 17 months until a special loving home was found.

“Thank you for keeping the faith,” George stated. So profound I thought these three words. And so we will, “Keep the Faith.”

I received an email—Rich and Wendy were interested in adopting Scout. This would be the third Border collie they acquired from Ed and me over the course of 12 years. If anyone could handle her it was Rich and Wendy. They wanted her to come and spend some time with them, their two cats and Border collie, Willow.

The Renegotiation

A couple of weeks had passed. Scout’s game, as I saw it, was to resource guard not only whatever she held in high value, (i.e. a plastic bag or paper towels of all things), but also space and certain people. She knew exactly how to get whatever she wanted. And yet, she could be the most affectionate and lovable pup, as long as it was on her terms. We needed to renegotiate those terms.

As time went on we’d made some progress. Now, in lieu of biting, she’ll give up whatever’s in her mouth with only a brief display of her teeth. Ideally my goal is “no lip” from the little lady. Along with Mirk and Echo she would come to my office with me. The privilege of being able to hang out in the office was immediately revoked as soon as she started inappropriately chewing or rooting through the trash. While I’m working on financials, I don’t appreciate a game of tug o’ war for a banana peel. Continue reading →

Today I’m going to brave the taboo topic of getting angry at your dog. Nowadays, if you so much as breathe a word against your dog, people look at you like you’re Michael Vick. And take one look at my dog Mick and you’d wonder what is wrong with me that I could ever get angry at him?

Let me begin with a quote from one of my favorite women, Beryl Markham. In West With the Night, she asked upon the birth of a foal, “Will it breathe when it is meant to breathe? Will it have the anger to feed and to grow and to demand its needs?”

Mick at Eighteen Months

Because I am above all things anxious to be a “nice woman,” I’ve often wondered, do I have the anger to demand my needs?

Is that what anger’s for?

Few places is anger more taboo right now than when it’s directed at your dog. And yet, let’s be honest. Dogs can be infuriating. Read more . . .